
Me and Leon in front of One Lucky Duck on 17th St.
Yes, that would be adopting a rescue dog. His name is LEON. I love him like crazy. (By the way, should you fail to make it to the end of this article, please note that One Lucky Duck is doing a Leon-inspired āGifts that Give Backā program, donating 10% of our pet product sales to animal rescue charities, so⦠shop here?) Anyway, on with the love story:
I have been falling in love with other peopleās dogs for years. Iād do things like go to someoneās garden party and end up hanging out in the corner of the yard with their dog all day, ignoring all the people. Or, Iād lock eyes with a dog waiting in line with its human companion at the bank, and⦠fall in love. During this last year, I began occasionally looking after Bazooka, a very mellow, sweet, and beautiful rescue dog adopted by Abel, who works at Pure Food and Wine. Anyone who follows my randomness on Twitter probably knows all about Baz because I posted loads of photos of him on twitpic.

me n baz
He traveled with me and my boyfriend to my Momās in New Hampshire, where he got to roll around in the grass a lot. Ā After the first time Abel came to take him back, I cried for a really long time.
As much as I adored taking care of Baz, and loving dogs, there was no way in my mind that I could adopt a dog myself. I definitely wasnāt thinking about getting a dog. But then I met a friend who kept talking about wanting a wife. My response was, āGet a rescue dog!ā It seemed perfect for him. I was thinking that loving a dog and being loved by a dog would do him good. And then with all that love floating around in his space, surely the right lady love would get pulled into the love vortex? So, anytime I came across sweet photos of rescue dogs up for adoption, Iād assault his email inbox with them.
Of course, I was insisting he consider only rescue dogs. The Humane Society estimates that 8-10 million cats and dogs are taken in by shelters each year. Of those, about 4-5 million donāt get adopted and are āeuthanizedā (killed). People should stop breeding dogs and cats and just let everyone adopt from shelters only. Do we really need fancy purebred dogs?
One day I was scanning a newsletter from my friend the lovely Kris Carr of CrazySexyLife (her newsletters and fun vlogs are great). Among all the other good info contained in these letters, she always includes a photo and link to a pet needing to be adopted. I scrolled down and saw⦠the sweetest looking puppy I’d ever seen. Ever. (photo below) Right away I clicked on the link and forwarded it to my wife-seeking friend. Of course, he kept ignoring these dog emails from meāI guess he really wants a human female, not a canine one? But there was something special about this dog and I kept pleading with him, YOU MUST GET THAT DOG! Meanwhile⦠I continued staring at the photo, and thus began my own obsession. Iād try to get back to my work, but kept going back again and again to look at the photo. Quinn was his name. Over the next few days, I would go back to Krisā email, stare at the photo some more. Then I just downloaded his photo right onto my laptop desktop for easy viewing day and night.

Quinn up for adoption
At some point during all this drooling over the photo, the idea of actually adopting him myself started to ever so slowly seep into my consciousness. First as more of a dreamy fantasy: me and Quinn, frolicking carefree through flowery fields. But Iād quickly snap back into the reality that my getting a dog would be insane. There were (are) tons of reasons for me NOT to get a dog. I mean, a LOT. I wonāt go into them all here. But if I did, youād tell me getting a dog at this point in my life would be an insane thing to do. And this is what those close to me indeed said when I started hesitantly tossing the idea out there. I couldnāt help showing people the photo of Quinn. Most asked how could I take care of a dog when theyāre always telling me I need to take better care of myself? And, in particular, a young rescue dog, a pit bull, five months old, no doubt needy and full of energy. If I had to get a dog, they said, why not get an older mellow dog, like Baz? But I didnāt have to get a dog, and this wasnāt about any dog, it was about Quinn. The image of his puppy face continued to haunt me with its cuteness, and something more I couldnāt explain.
The shelter where Quinn was being kept was in Brooklyn, so I googlemapped it to see where exactly it was. Why? I didnāt know. But then knowing exactly where he was (and how to get there via hopstop) of course only made me feel more connected. His adoption description said heād been found with āsevere demodectic mangeā so of course I began googling that condition to find out what it was. So sad! The photos online of dogs with mange are terrible. Poor things. Appently, itās a treatable condition and Quinnās description explained that heād healed quite well on medication. Then I emailed the shelter just to check if they still had him. I still thought maybe Iād be able to convince my friend to get him. They emailed me back letting me know he was still there, and they attached an application for me. Really? For moi? Ruh-roh. I printed it. But left it sitting in the printer.
Then⦠one night I woke up crying at like 4am. My boyfriend woke up too and asked me what was wrong. I told him, āItās Quinn.ā For whatever reason my heart was hurting badly over it. As if he was there in the crate at that shelter just waiting for me and I had to go get him. Why was I so upset over it not having even met him? It was just a photo. There are tons of rescue dogs out there. I was lying in bed awake and upset thinking about it, when it occurred to me that his profile said he was about 5 months old. Counting back 5 months meant he was born some time in March. March!?

sick sleepy Dallas
That was when I lost my 11 year old cat soul mate Dallas to cardiomyopathy. (Again, anyone whose followed my stuff may remember because as he got sick I kept Tweeting for advice on what to do⦠I wanted to write a whole kitty eulogy after he died, to memorialize him and also in particular to say thank you for the vast amounts of helpful advice and support I got while he was sick through both twitter and facebook. So yes, people can rip on āsocial mediaā all they want but it can provide a really supportive connection in times of need.) Anyway, maybe the timing of this puppyās birth was a coincidence, but it was like that little extra special sign.
And so, despite all the apparently obvious reasons I should not adopt a dog (or a child, or anything else), I sorted out that Iād just go see him. This particular dog was just jammed up in my head and heart and there was nothing else I could do.
I didnāt really tell anyone I was planning to go see him until right before I went. My boyfriend had just left for a trip to Colorado. I was sort of afraid he didnāt want me to get a dog. I was also afraid that it was horrifically stupid given my home is also the One Lucky Duck office and Tiffani, Karen, Adina, and Chelsey who all work here would also have to deal with this giant puppy dog Iād be imposing on them. Not to mention, heād probably eat all our inventory? Or chew up all our computer cords? And how in the world would I manage walking him every day all the time? A puppy! A pit-bull puppy! What if he barked all day and night!
I got to the Sean Casey Animal Rescue shelter late in the afternoon on a Thursday. Iād called the day before and again that morning to make sure they still had him. (At this point, if theyād told me someone else adopted him I would have been devastated!). Finally I got there and met him. In my head Iād sort of imagined one of those TV Lassie moments, but there wasnāt any slo-mo running towards each other. He was just a very hyper cute puppy. And he didnāt stare up into my eyes pleading to be taken home. But he was damn cute. His fur was still a little mange-y, and he looked a little beaten up, but cute. And did I mention he was hyper? We walked around a bit. I talked to Sean (who founded the shelter). He was (is) very cool.
Sean told me about Quinnās history. He had severe mange when they found him. He showed me the photos theyād taken of him. I couldnāt believe it was the same dog. Poor baby! He was all scab, no fur. Sean said it was so bad that if you tried to handle him heād bleed. But mange is easily treatable, it just gets out of hand if you donāt treat it. He said that whoever had him before probably just dumped him after it got really bad. They were going to email me the photos but canāt find them now. I probably would post them even though theyāre heartbreaking just so people know puppies with mange can and do get so much better, as long as they get treated. Anyway. He spent his first month at the shelter in a cage healing up, and then they took the super cute photo they posted on their site, that Kris Carr reposted, that I fell in love with.
I told Sean I needed to think about it. But then I left him the application Iād printed at home and filled out, very thoroughly, just in case. I even already had a leash, collar, and dog treats in my bag⦠just in case.
They put Quinn back in his cage and I went in to say goodbye. All the other dogs were freaking out barking, but Quinn had flopped down in his cage, and finally looked up right at me with his puppy eyes. I mentally told him not to worry, Iād come back to get him. So, of course, that was it. Really? There was no decision, I couldnāt not come back and get him.
I got home later and started running around freaking out⦠shoving all my sneakers into closets, combing the floors for paper clips, binder clips, hair clips, anything a puppy could swallow. And generally just running in circles thinking OMG OMG OMG Iām getting a dog! Not knowing what Iām supposed to do. And wishing I had two weeks to get ready.
I left the next morning timing it so Iād get there right when they opened. On the way there, I was crying like a dork. Exploding heart. People on the subway probably thought Iād just broken out of a relationship, lost a family member, a job, something. No, I was just about do adopt a puppy! And whatever was coming up, I knew I needed to get it out of my system so I didnāt cry at the shelter. (They might think I was a basketcase and unfit mother?). Charlie, the trainer there, spent a good two hours with me before I took Quinn/Leon home. Sean Casey Animal Rescue is a rad place. At one point I had to pee so I went back through the cages of freaking out dogs to a small bathroom and while peeing casually glanced over into the sink next to me to find a giant turtle in it. Needless to say I did not wash my hands this one time. Rescue turtles? Cool.
After about 3 hours, they called me a car and we loaded it up with the crate and everything else I bought from the pet store next door. This is the photo I took of a very nervous dog in the car.

looking scared on the way home from the shelter
Our first afternoon was a little nervewracking. I was sort of afraid, not knowing what his background was and if he might get aggressive. But really heās about the sweetest thing ever. Hyper, but incredibly sweet. He slept the first night in his crate, but after that on a dog bed next to me.
I still had a name dilemma. I knew him as Quinn, but the trainer at the shelter said it was probably best if I renamed him. New life, new name. Shit. New name? It took me days to sort out. It was hard for me to think of him as anything other than Quinn. Iād finally come up with Leon as the top running alternate name (explanation below) but kept thinking of him as Quinn. One night on a walk through drunken B&T crowds in the MP district, I took a poll of all the party people who stopped to pet him and asked his name. Iād say, does he look like Quinn? Or Leon? They ALL said Leon. So, the B&T people voted. I listened. I figured Quinn could be his middle name.
LEON QUINN TRUJILLO STERLING BRITT is my boyās full name. LEON is the character in my favorite movie of all time. The Professional, with Natalie Portman when she was super young, and Jean Reno, who played Leon. LOVE him. (If you havenāt seen that movie, best movie ever. Go rent it now.) Quinn: his shelter name obvs. Trujillo is for Rob Trujillo of Metallica. (sigh). Then Sterling and Britt are my BFās middle and last names, respectively. Much more distinguished sounding than my last name, I thought. Anyway. Howard and Beth Sternās dog is named Bianca Romijn-Stamos-OāConnell. I wanted a nice long name for my dog too. Why should they have only one name?

Leon Quinn Trujillo Sterling Britt
At the shelter, they said itās really hard to get pitbulls adopted because they have such a bad reputation. They kept thanking me for taking him. I was like, no⦠thank YOU! For paperwork purposes, my dog is officially labeled an āAmerican Staffordshire Terrierā but everyone I pass on the street goes, āOh! A red nosed pit!ā I think heās definitely a mix of some kind. Of who knows what. I like to think heās part pitbull, part rabbit (his ears!) and part piglet (heās so pink! and snorts a lot!). And for the record, he hasnāt chewed up any inventory, or any computer cords. There are chew toys everywhere. I even added some to our inventory. Of course⦠Leon has rekindled the flame buried way down for me to build an entire pet biz. But more on that later. For now we just got some cool new stuff to put in the pet section of One Lucky Duck: organic and eco-happy toys, treats, doggy shampoo, and more.
With a puppy, training is key. And reading books. So far, The Dog Listener by Jan Fennell, and Good Owners, Great Dogs by Brian Kilcommons and Sarah Wilson,Ā have been my favorites. Of course, I also got the entire series of The Dog Whisperer from Netflix too. Love Cesar! For personal training⦠I really highly recommend my first trainer Sean Morgan. He has a total Cesar Dog Whisper air about him. He walks in with that friendly but very strong presence. Leon immediately bowed down to him and did pretty much whatever he asked. I learned a lot. E-mail him if you need help, heās lovely and very affordable⦠seansdogs@yahoo.com. Then through one of our regulars at the restaurant, I met Leonās current daytime daddy, Justin Silver. Also an amazing trainer I’d highly recommend. His friend thought he’d be perfect for me and Leon because he has two pit bulls of his own and lives nearby. He also started and runs a not for profit foundation, Funny For Fido, which holds an annual stand up comedy event to benefit animal rescue organizations.

Justin w Chiquita n Pacino
Hereās Justin and his two pups (photo) and in a really sweet profile where he explains why he started this charity. To read itĀ click here. And hereās his doggy care website: The Language of Dogs.
Leon now goes out every day with Justin and friends, running around with other dogs, and then comes home to pass out and snore on the couch all afternoon. All of which means I get a lot more work done during the day than I’d been getting done over the first six weeks. Justin totally loves Leon and gives me loads of advice all the time, from what collars and leashes to buy to the best neighborhood vet. When I asked Justin whether I should get pet insurance he said,“Trupanion!” so I’ve signed up for that too. (After getting drained by vet bills when my kitty lover was sick, wanted to be insured going forward).
The work that Justin does through his foundation to benefit animal shelters and my firsthand experience with Sean Casey Animal Rescue really made me want to help in some way, so thatās why we came up with a Gifts That Give Back program for the holidays, to donate 10% of sales of all our pet products to both Sean Casey Animal Rescue and Funny For Fido. Of course, one day I want to have a huge country vacation home where loads of dogs and cats and rabbits and anyone else can come live. But⦠for now, weāll just do this neat little promo.
So, has my life turned upside down with Leon? No, and yes. I mean, it already feels upside down so maybe heās turning it right side up? As I type this heās gnawing away on a chew thing in my office, and Sydney (my cat, sister of Dallas) is on her bamboo bed on top of my desk snoozing away. Cats of course require way less attention. They do their own thing. But dogs⦠especially puppies, whole different story. Getting a dog for me seemed insane, but then, not. For months Iād been trying to figure out if there was something wrong with me, wondering why I was feeling so shitty and exhausted all the time. Which is not something I theoretically should be admitting, but then should I be lying? No! So Iāve been very open about feeling shitsville and trying lots of things. Thyroid issues? Low iron? Candida? Parasites? Chronic Fucking Fatigue Syndrome? The only conclusion I came to was just being overworked and over stressed. And specifically tired of people telling me I need to take better care of myself. So adding yet another āresponsibilityā to my life seemed crazy. But I couldnāt help it. Maybe I rescued a dog because I want to be rescued myself? Oh wait, weāre not in therapy. Nevermind. Iāll sort that out myself. But apparently there are studies that show people are far more relaxed in the presence of a dog. So, I think heās good for me.
Iād always thought I wouldn’t make a good dog-mother because Iām so busy, but really⦠Iām here so much of the time. Working in a home office means Leon doesnāt have to spend all day stuck in a crate or a room or an apartment all by him self. And with other people around too, and my boyfriend here (who took him out last night for a 3am runaround) heās rarely alone. And with Justin taking him out every weekday with his dog friends, heās getting lots of attention. His first night having dinner with me outside Pure Food and Wine he slept in my lap on the front patio. The incredibly lovely animal lover and supporterĀ Alicia Silverstone came out, kneeled down and closed her eyes, and Leon licked her entire face. She has her own pack of rescue pups so she’s probably very used to getting these facial tongue baths. So yes, I think Leon’s a happy puppy.
And, of course I feed him well. Heās not a vegan dog, but heās mostly raw. Sydneyās raw too. I wrote a whole two pages in Living Raw Food about the grotesque atrocity that is conventional commercial pet food. I really would like to do something about that one day.
Taking care of Leon makes me happy. He gets me out every morning, even now in the cold, which feels good. I’ve met and gotten to know so many more of my neighbors. People talk to you a lot when you have a dog, particularly a damn cute one. We go to the dog park in Madison Square, and meet more people there. I like meeting people on a level that’s not Pure Food and Wine or otherwise work related, or social. Living in NYC can be really isolating but with a dog you’re more easily pulled into the neighborhood community. Which is nice. Being out with Leon gets me out of my own head where I otherwise easily wallow in a stressed out state way too often. He’s grounding. And sometimes Iāll leave to take him for a walk and be in a bad mood, but then seeing how many people look at him and smile as we go by, itās hard not to feel better. Like everything will be okay. I like that he gets people smiling, which then gets me smiling too.
So… I would urge anyone whose thinking about it… do it! Ā With love from me and Leon. If you’re one of those people who likes looking at dog photos and want to see the best of mine… I made an album, click here. Or, loads of Leon pix on my twitpic account too. Ā :-) Ā If you’re so inclined… check out your local shelter’s website… or go to PetFinder.com and type in your zipcode and start browsing. Ā xo










Whether youāre at Chelsea Market or at 17th street One Lucky Duck or sitting at Pure Food and Wine (which is now open for lunch too⦠one lucky duck menu 12-3pm), you can order one of these Valentineās shakes. Truth be told (which I have a habit of doing) Iām not much of a shake person. I usually prefer to chew my food. But this oneās different⦠I think itās the special ingredients. Lucuma, Yacon, Maca! Theyāre āadaptogensā which are supposed to be good for your hormones and mine have been raging these days so I think this shake makes me feel better. Plus, if I may say so myself, itās damn tasty. I was never a huge fan of maca before. But it works here along with the yacon and lucuma. All blended into thisĀ Chocolate Covered Strawberry shake. Sorry for the sucky photo… I don’t have access to better ones at the moment, this was a quickie from an iPhone in the kitchen. I’ll add more pix later!





